


Treasure

by Whisper132



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-27
Updated: 2006-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whisper132/pseuds/Whisper132
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Yukimura met Sanada</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
At the beginning of his first year at Rikkaidai, Yukimura Seiichi was ready to devote his life to tennis. Yukimura was prepared to practice endlessly to achieve his goal of being a top pro athlete. He was going to join the tennis club and, in his third year, he was going to be captain. He would uphold Rikkai’s Kanto title and lead the team to nationals, where they would be victorious and earn the attention of all of Japan.

Yukimura was practical about his aspirations. He knew that, in order to succeed, he would need not just himself, but a team of outstanding players, both in doubles and singles. Obviously Yukimura was singles one, so the first order of business was to select his singles two candidate and subsequent new best friend. It was imperative that he be best friends with his future fukubuchou. From what Yukimura had seen at practices, Yanagi Renji would be the best choice.

  
&-&

  
Renji didn’t know why the kid with the purple hair was following him, but the boy’s bright, friendly smile was alarming. No one was that happy, particularly after twenty laps and half an hour of racquet forms. Every time Renji tried to subtly move away, the purple haired boy followed. Finally, after being followed out of the clubhouse, Renji turned to address the boy. “Is there something I can assist you with?”

“Would you like to get something to eat with me?” The boy’s voice was light but firm. There was an unsettling determination shining behind his eyes.

“Why?” It stood to reason that the boy wanted something. It was illogical to assume that he really just wanted to go have an after school snack when they’d only just met.

“I would like to get to know you. We’ll both be regulars next year and we should learn to get along, ne?”

At least he was direct and, now that he’d explained himself, his reasoning wasn’t too unsound. A week into practice wasn’t really the time to be making such claims, but Renji already knew he was going to be a regular. If this purple haired kid had high hopes then good for him. “There is a noodle house nearby.”

“Alright, let’s go Yanagi-kun!” The boy took Renji’s arm in a surprisingly strong grip.

“Would you mind letting go of my arm…” Well, what was he supposed to do now? Renji couldn’t call him Purple Haired Boy, particularly when he knew Renji’s name already.

“Yukimura. Yukimura Seiichi. Good to meet you.” Renji could tell that Yukimura would be popular with the girls. He smiled a lot and looked highly feminine; two traits young females preferred. Renji supposed that was good, if you went for that sort of thing.

  
&-&

  
At the beginning of the third week of school, Yukimura was pleased with his progress. While he wasn’t yet best friends with Yanagi-kun, they had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to eat lunch together later in the week. They planned to meet on the roof on the day of the soon to be arranged luncheon. Renji was in a different class, so Yukimura said he’d let Renji know when the rendezvous would take place at Monday’s practice. Yukimura was thinking Friday. No one went to the roof on Tuesdays or Fridays, and Yukimura wanted to eat by himself and plan his weekly strategy on Tuesday.

The Tuesday of Yukimura’s third week at Rikkaidai, he was not alone on the roof. When he got there, there was another boy, standing in the corner, looking out over the schoolyard. He was tall, taller than Yukimura and a goodly bit of the boys in Yukimura’s class. At the sound of the roof door closing, the boy turned around, regarded Yukimura calmly, and moved to leave.

“You don’t need to leave because of me,” Yukimura assured, smiling. People liked a cute boy when he smiled, which won Yukimura much leverage in the past.

The boy raised an eyebrow as he looked down at Yukimura, then left without a word. Yukimura might have been offended if he hadn’t been busy watching the boy’s arm as it opened the door. There was power there; tightly controlled power. He would have to find out who this boy was and see what he played to give him that long line of muscle up his arm. Yukimura still needed a singles three.

  
&-&

  
At the beginning of his first year at Rikkaidai, Sanada Genichirou devoted his life to kendo. He practiced daily at his family dojo and was determined to captain the team in his third year, leading the way to the Kanto game and, ultimately, to nationals. While kendo wasn’t a life goal- Sanada was aware that a life was better spent with a sensible job and a quiet home- it was his junior high ambition and would make his father proud.

Sanada was determined in his path, choosing to ignore the ridiculous swarm of girls that kept Sanada-kun-ing him during breaks. He did not want to socialize, he wanted to study, play kendo, and succeed in life. His plans were interrupted on a Thursday afternoon by a purple haired boy who was waiting outside of the dojo for him. He seemed familiar, but Sanada couldn’t remember where they’d met.

“Sanada-kun, my name is Yukimura Seiichi. Would you do me the honor of having dinner with me? I have a proposition for you.” Yukimura looked like a girl, and Sanada wasn’t interested in girls. Girls stalked around the school dojo, screaming and sighing and making nuisances of themselves.

“I have a prior engagement.” Sanada moved past Yukimura, only to have his arm held in a strong grip. He could break free of it if he wished, but didn’t think it wise. He, instead, settled for a gruff, “Let go.”

“But if I let go, you’ll leave and I’ll have waited half an hour for nothing.” Yukimura smiled and looked even more like a girl. Sanada supposed some boys were just like that. It must be embarrassing for Yukimura-kun’s parents. “Just come to dinner. I’ll pay.”

“Fine.” This kid wasn’t going away, so Sanada might as well reap the benefits of a free meal. It would be the prudent thing to do.

  
&-&

  
Sanada-kun was boring, but in a way that made you pity him more than want to be rid of him. Sanada just needed someone to show him how to have fun; how to play tennis. During dinner, Yukimura learned that Sanada was on the kendo team, which accounted for his upper body strength. That strength could just as easily be turned to tennis, in Yukimura’s opinion. Yukimura was playing it smart, though. He didn’t mention tennis at all during the meal except once, when Sanada asked if Yukimura was in any clubs.

“Yanagi-kun, would you like to have dinner at my house tonight? Mom said I could invite friends. I’m also inviting Sanada-kun. Do you know him?” Yukimura was warming up with his best friend, Renji. Though they were best friends (at least in Yukimura’s mind), they had yet to advance to a first name basis. Soon, though. Soon.

“I know him. We went to primary school together. He’s busy tonight, though. He has to help out in his family’s dojo.” Yanagi-kun’s returns were very good. He played like he knew where Yukimura was going to hit. Pretty soon, Yukimura would have to start playing with intent.

“We ate together yesterday. It was fun.” Yukimura put a little more power into his volley and Yanagi couldn’t return it. “So, do you want to come to dinner?”

“I’ll come, but Sanada won’t.” Yanagi looked away before saying, “It’s probably best to leave Sanada alone. He doesn’t like people hanging around him too much.”

Now _that_ Yukimura could believe. Throughout the meal, Sanada said perhaps a phrase or two on his own, though he always replied when spoken to. It was weird. Sanada needed someone to help him learn to be sociable. Yes, that would be a wonderful project to fill Yukimura’s non-tennis time. He would help Sanada-kun learn to be around people and, when Sanada wanted to do a favor back (surely he would be overcome with gratitude), Yukimura would ask him to join the tennis team. It was a perfect plan.

  
&-&

  
“Sanada-kun!”

Sanada turned and watched Yukimura run toward him. What did he want? Sanada thought their farce of a meal would be the end of their dealings. Apparently Yukimura-kun had other ideas. “Yes?” Sanada tried to sound as uninterested as possible. Maybe that would do the trick.

“Would you like to come to my house for dinner tonight? Yanagi-kun’s coming.” Yukimura smiled and put a hand on Sanada’s arm.

Sanada stepped away. “I’m busy, but thank you for the offer.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“I’m busy for the remainder of the week, but thank you for the offer.” Sanada began walking away. Yukimura followed. “Is there something I can assist you with, Yukimura-kun?”

“Let’s have lunch on the roof tomorrow. You don’t have anything to do then, do you?” Yukimura’s little grin said that he’d already looked into the matter. Lying, then, was not an option.

“I would rather not,” Sanada said honestly. Sanada liked to take his lunches in the corner of the classroom, where no one would bother him. True, an occasional classmate would come to ask him a question but, for the most part, Sanada was left alone.

“Why?” Yukimura asked, his smile infuriating. Yukimura was an upbeat person. Sanada did not appreciate upbeat people.

“I am not interested in being your friend. That being the case, I do not find it necessary to have further relations with you. Please find someone else to pester.” Sanada walked away while Yukimura stood still. Evidently, no one’d ever spoken to him in such a manner before. It was best Yukimura-kun learn that not everyone wanted to be his friend.

  
&-&

  
Yukimura pulled up a desk and set it against Sanada’s. “Good afternoon, Sanada-kun. I hope you don’t mind if Renji and I join you.”

Renji mouthed “sorry” to Sanada and sat down. Yukimura-kun was persistent and Renji didn’t have the spare energy it would take to get Yukimura to go away. Besides, Yukimura was eventually going to be captain, and Renji didn’t want to burn any bridges.

Sanada ignored them both and continued to eat his lunch.

“Ne Sanada, what are you eating? It smells lovely.” Yukimura leaned over the desks, only to be swatted away.

“Do not breathe on my lunch.” Sanada pulled his bento closer.

“I brought some pastries for us to share.” Yukimura opened a small white box and set a puff pastry next to Sanada’s bento. Renji also received a pastry, though the cherry that was supposed to be atop it was, instead, mating with the cherry atop Sanada’s pastry.

“I don’t like sweets.” Sanada pushed the pastry to Yanagi’s desk. “You can have it.”

The truth was that Sanada had an incredible sweet tooth. For him to resist the mountain of whipped sugar before him meant that he was very agitated. “I’ll save it for later,” Renji said, hoping Sanada would know to come claim the desert when Yukimura was gone.

“Do as you wish.” Sanada’s attention returned to his lunch.

Renji felt a kick from under the desk. He turned to Yukimura to find the other boy smiling at him. Yukimura kicked him again. Right, he was supposed to start a conversation. “So, Sanada, how is the kendo team doing?” This was humiliating. Yukimura didn’t want to be Renji’s friend, he wanted to use Renji to get to Sanada. It was primary school all over again.

Sanada seemed to understand, though, and set his chopsticks down. “Fine, thank you. I will be competing next month if I continue my training.” Sanada used his napkin to wipe his chopsticks clean then folded the cloth neatly. “I appreciate your training suggestions. They have been useful.”

“Oh, Yanagi-kun helps you train?” Yukimura was leaning over the desk and obviously didn’t give a damn about Sanada’s training schedule. Renji didn’t know what the purple haired boy was up to, but he was going to find out before Yukimura annoyed Sanada too much. Sanada was usually quiet, but he could rant rather impressively when he wanted to – so long as no one was listening, of course.

Sanada looked past Yukimura. “Do you think it would be wise to add more weight training? The school’s weight room is well equipped and Coach agreed to allow me to stay extra hours if I liked.”

“You could benefit from perhaps an hour or so more, but I wouldn’t go beyond that. Too much weight training might put unneeded strain on your bones.” Renji felt another kick under the table, strong this time. “Perhaps we could meet after class today and evaluate your program? I was planning to create one for Yukimura-kun and myself anyway.”

Sanada turned and looked at Yukimura. “Fine.” Sanada was glaring at the purple haired boy, which was just fine as far as Yanagi was concerned. Sanada took a book from his bag and began reading.

“I’ll see you then.” Renji put the borrowed desk back and waited for Yukimura, who was still toying with his lunch and watching Sanada. “Yukimura-kun, lunch is almost over.”

“Oh, is it? Time flies, doesn’t it?” Renji didn’t know hips could move that fluidly when sliding out of a desk. Yukimura’s bones must be hinged differently than most. Nevertheless, the smooth movement managed to draw Sanada’s eyes from his book for a fraction of a second before the surly boy grunted and went back to reading his economics text.

  
&-&

  
“We’re making progress,” Yukimura told Yanagi over a steamed bun. “It’s been a week since we had our lunch conference with Sanada-kun and I think he’s finally starting to open up to me.” At least he didn’t visibly frown whenever Yukimura talked to him, he just stood there, like a bovine. It was an improvement.

“Yukimura-kun, I do not mean to pry, but your fixation on bringing Sanada into the tennis club is unhealthy. He will not join. He does not enjoy tennis. Your chances of getting him onto a tennis court are 12 percent at best.”

Yanagi was a downer and Yukimura was beginning to re-evaluate his choice of a best friend. “Don’t be narrow minded, Renji. Sanada’ll come around.” Sanada better come around, or Yukimura was going to break his kneecaps and drag him onto the tennis court.

“Why can’t we find another candidate?” Renji sounded like Yukimura’s mother sounded when she asked Yukimura why he insisted on playing tennis, despite his illness.

“Because there isn’t another candidate.” There were hundreds of students who played tennis at Rikkaidai. None of them were Sanada Genichirou, and only Sanada Genichirou would do. He had an iron determination that Yukimura both admired and wanted to break. Sanada was Yukimura’s Mount Everest. He was also somewhat cute in an obstinate, volcanic sort of way.

“You’d be better off finding a candidate at another school and convincing him to transfer.”

Renji’s commentary was getting on Yukimura’s nerves. “If you’re not interested in helping me, then leave me alone. I have planning to do.” Yukimura removed a notebook from his bookbag and began jotting down notes. Most of the notes involved training regimes for Sanada once he agreed to be on the team. Yukimura did not hear Renji leave.


	2. Chapter 2

  
“I believe Yukimura-kun has a crush on you.” Renji informed Sanada.

Sanada swung his shinai, completing his final practice kata. “Why?”

“How should I know?” Renji refrained from mentioning that Yukimura was probably crazy. “He is determined to get you to join the tennis team.”

“I don’t like tennis.” Sanada began putting his equipment away.

Renji often wondered why he was friends with Sanada. The boy had the conversational skills of an ant. Still, he wasn’t so bad. Once he got to know you, he loosened up a bit. Renji watched Sanada clean up a moment before saying, “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

Sanada paused in his actions. “What?”

“Would you mind giving the tennis club a shot, just to get Yukimura to calm down a little?” Renji was aware that asking this was akin to asking the emperor to perform a tap dance on national television while having fruit pies thrown at him.

Sanada didn’t even pause to think about it. “No.”

“Just for a day?” If Sanada didn’t agree, Yukimura would just keep pestering the both of them.

Sanada paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “I will observe your tennis team on Monday. I will not play. That is all I am willing to give you.” Sanada returned to cleaning up the dojo. He grabbed a cloth broom and handed it to Yanagi. “Sweep while I dust.”

Renji spent the next hour making sure the wood floors of the dojo gleamed in the fading sunlight. “Thank you, Sanada.”

A grunt was Sanada’s only reply.

 **& -&**

By the end of tennis practice, Sanada had to admit one thing: Yukimura was _good._ Yukimura went up against two second years in practice matches and destroyed them completely. It was impressive.

“Sanada-kun, you came!” Yukimura ran up, his hair bouncing despite the sweat drenching his headband. Sanada thought Yanagi might be over-reacting when he said Yukimura had a crush him. Yukimura wasn’t acting any differently toward Sanada than toward any other club member.

“Renji asked me to observe the tennis team today.” They began walking toward the clubhouse.

“What did you think?” Yukimura stopped and looked up at Sanada. He seemed genuinely interested in what Sanada had to say.

“Impressive, but the team lacks in overall stamina. You should heighten your running schedule. The first senpai you faced was out of breath halfway through the third game.” Sanada frowned, trying to remember the other things that caught him during the matches. “You should hold your racket up a bit. You aren’t maximizing your shoulder’s rotation.”

Yukimura took out his racket, first taking up a normal grip, then adjusting. “Like this?”

Sanada stepped forward and grabbed Yukimura’s arm. “You’re down too far.” He moved the racquet. “Now swing your arm, pivoting from the waist.” Sanada moved Yukimura’s body for him once, then gestured for him to try it on his own.

Yukimura’s racquet whistled through the air. “I see.” Yukimura swung again. “It will take some getting used to, but I can see where this stance generates more power. Thank you, Sanada.” Sanada shrugged. It was a basic kendo stance, nothing special. He told Yukimura so. “Oh no,” Yukimura protested, still swinging, “it’s wonderful.”

“Yukimura-kun, buchou wants to speak with you,” Renji called from the clubhouse.

Yukimura stowed his racquet and bowed to Sanada. “Thank you for your assistance. I appreciate it greatly. I hope you come to observe again soon, Sanada-kun.”

Sanada watched Yukimura run to the clubhouse and wondered at the heat in his cheeks. It was probably the sun.

  
 **& -&**

  
“Sanada-kun came to visit again today,” Yukimura was smiling as he changed into his uniform, practice long over. Yanagi noted that the smile was decidedly wider than yesterday’s, when Sanada accepted Yukimura’s invitation to watch tennis practice for a third time.

“The kendo team regulars are away at competition so practices are light. I anticipate he will not be able to observe for much longer.” That quickly dampened Yukimura’s smile, which pleased Renji to a small degree. Renji was beginning to agree with a few members of the team; Yukimura was too happy, particularly of late. The boy was glowing, more often than not, for no apparent reason.

“I’m going to ask him to dinner again.” Yukimura was talking to his reflection in his locker mirror. Renji ignored him.

It was somewhat sad to think that Sanada was only doing this because Renji had asked. By the end of the week, Sanada would be back to his kendo and Yukimura would get scary again. Renji preferred this sated Yukimura more – he was far more congenial and a far more aggressive and direct tennis player – but Yukimura’s shift back into a quiet, sneaky tennis prodigy was inevitable.

 **& -&**

Tennis wasn’t so different from kendo, really. Instead of hitting a human, you hit a ball. The movements were, more or less, the same. Still, kendo was far more honorable and far cleaner. Tennis required sunburns and dust and that hideous uniform. The yellow junior high uniforms were disgusting. Why the red senior high uniforms couldn’t be used was a mystery. The kendo team wore navy; nice, simple navy.

Sanada felt a tap on his shoulder. “Sanada-kun, would you like to come to dinner this evening?”

“I am studying with Renji this evening.” Sanada was not adept at mathematics, geometry in particular. “I have an exam next week.”

Yukimura looked to the geometry text Sanada held. “I’m fairly good at geometry. Would you like to study with me, instead?” Yukimura was taking Sanada’s arm before he could reply, saying that he would much rather study with an expert tactician than a girly tennis player.

“Fine.” Yukimura looked far too excited at the prospect of dinner for Sanada to disappoint him. It would only be this once, and Renji most likely knew that Sanada was going to be stolen away by Yukimura anyhow. Sanada would apologize in the morning.

“Good, my father is cooking this evening. He has a wonderful way with seasonings.” Yukimura continued to chat about his father’s cooking while Sanada tried to remove his arm from Yukimura’s hold.

After a block, Sanada gave up and said, “Let go of my arm.”

“I’m still not convinced you won’t run away.” Yukimura gave Sanada’s arm a squeeze.

“People are staring.” Indeed people were staring. They were staring and saying things that Sanada did not appreciate. Sanada did not look “cute,” no matter what company he chose to keep. “Let go.”

Yukimura sighed, but complied. The walk to Yukimura’s house continued on in silence.

 **& -&**

Renji’s phone rang at eleven at night. He stared at the phone’s caller ID and hesitantly answered the call. “Yes Yukimura-kun?”

“Do you think Sanada-kun would like to go to an amusement park with me this weekend?”

The urge to hang the phone up and go to bed was high, but Renji’s future in the tennis club revolved around making Yukimura happy. Still, Renji wasn’t about to lie. “No. He does not enjoy crowded places.” Telling the truth could also be done without mentioning that Sanada was getting agitated at Yukimura’s constant invitations.

“Oh.” Yukimura sounded genuinely upset and, for a moment, Renji felt sorry for his forced friend. Unrequited crushes were never easy to deal with. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, Yanagi-kun.”

Renji sighed and dialed Sanada, who answered with an ever-eloquent, “What do you want? It’s late.”

“Sanada, would you be interested in joining the tennis club?” Renji knew the answer was going to be no, but if Sanada joined, even for a day, then Yukimura would be pleased, Yanagi would get to be a regular, and maybe Sanada would go on a date, which might dislodge the stick of thorns shoved up his nether regions.

“You disrupted my evening for _that_?” Sanada hung up.

Yanagi redialed. “I mean it, Sanada. Yukimura just called and asked if you would agree to go to an amusement park with him. The least you could do is give tennis a try for a day. It would help secure my position as a regular.” Renji waited for Sanada to reply, but the other boy was silent. Fine. Renji was fully prepared to blackmail Sanada into submission. “You owe me, Sanada. You wouldn’t have passed the Rikkai entrance exam without me.”

“I’ve been going along with you to repay that debt. We are even, now.”

“You do this for me and we’re even. Join the club for one week. You can quit after that. The kendo team will understand a one week sabbatical.” Sanada didn’t need to practice kendo anyway, he was already the third best on the team. If freshmen were allowed to compete in the first tournament, Sanada would already be well known in the junior high circuit.

“One week. No longer. I will expect you to purchase the needed equipment.” Sanada mumbled something, but the phone’s reception garbled it.

“One week,” Yanagi agreed. “Good night, Sanada, and thank you for your cooperation.”

Sanada hung up.

 **& -&**

Yukimura had one week to convince Sanada that tennis was better than kendo. He had one week to secure his future fukubuchou. Yanagi was singles three now; he didn’t have the spine for fukubuchou-hood. Also, Sanada-kun was cute and would eventually be Yukimura’s boyfriend. It would be a strain on their relationship if Yukimura didn’t elect Sanada as fukubuchou.

“Yukimura-kun, it’s your turn.” Renji’s whisper tugged Yukimura out of his daydream and back to the tennis court, where the captain was waiting to have an evaluation match. This match would determine whether Yukimura would be eligible to play in the small mock-tourney at the end of the month. The tourney would be Yukimura’ tennis club debut. The next month’s would be Sanada’s if all went well.

Sanada was one court over, glaring at his racquet and making several senpai nervous. Hopefully he would look over while Yukimura played the captain. Yukimura would go at two-thirds strength, just to be impressive. Obara-buchou was difficult, but with training, Yukimura would reach his caliber soon.

“Yukimura-kun, you seem distracted today.” Obara met Yukimura at the net and smiled, as he was wont to do.

“I am nervous for my friend. He just joined.” Yukimura indicated Sanada with a nod of the head and a wave of hair.

Obara turned and regarded the neighboring court. “He’s got good form and remarkable speed. Once he masters the basics, he’ll be formidable.” He turned back to Yukimura. “But, I doubt that’s what’s taking your attention away from the game. If you allow yourself to fall prey to distraction, you will lose. Which?”

The racquet spun and, with an eye on Sanada, Yukimura answered, “Rough.”

 **& -&**

Renji was ninety-eight percent certain that Yukimura was showing off for Sanada. While Yukimura didn’t win the match against Obara-buchou (no one won against Obara-buchou), he gave the captain a few scares, which was more than enough to place Yukimura in the monthly exhibition tournament. Renji would be in the tournament as well, and was hoping he wouldn’t have to play Yukimura, who seemed bent on showing Sanada that tennis could be just as tough and rewarding as kendo.

“Yanagi-kun, why don’t you and Sanada-kun come over for dinner?” Yukimura bounded up, smiling.

“I have plans tonight,” Renji lied. Being in a room with Yukimura while he tried to sway Sanada to tennis was not something to which Renji wanted to bear witness. Renji wanted to spend a nice evening at home, without Yukimura’s schemes or Sanada’s grumblings.

“Oh well, I’ll see if Sanada-kun is free.” Yukimura didn’t sound sorry in the least.

  
 **& -&**

The problem with Sanada, Yukimura decided, was that he was too serious. His stern countenance scared people away which, while it was a good tennis technique, was detrimental to social interactions. Sanada would have to lighten up if he was going to be successful as a fukubuchou. Still, Sanada _did_ accept Yukimura’s offer for dinner, so that was at least one step in the right direction.

“Sanada-kun, what are your interests?” Yukimura’s mother asked. Yukimura’s mother worked at a bakery down the street. She managed their accounts.

“I am currently on the kendo team. I plan to go to university for business and work for my father.” Sanada bowed his head while he spoke, the epitome of reverent humility.

“What business is he in?” Yukimura’s father asked before taking a great slurp of soup.

“He is a lawyer and a kendo master. He splits duties at the dojo with my grandfather. As soon as my skill is high enough, I will assist them.” Sanada, too, took a great slurp, though even his slurping had a measure of formality.

“Sanada-kun is phenomenal at kendo.” Yukimura sent a smile toward Sanada, who was observing his fish. “He helped me adjust my stance to get better power out of my swing.” Yukimura frowned when he realized that no one was listening to him. Instead, they were watching Sanada attack his fish. The way Sanada used his chopsticks to cut bits of fish away in lightning fast movements was impressive. It took strength and control to have such dexterity. Sanada was amazing.

Yukimura’s mother’s eyes were slightly glazed in admiration. “Your movements are so quick, Sanada-kun. I’m sure you’ll be assisting in the dojo shortly. Here, have some more.” She piled another piece of fish on Sanada’s plate. “You must keep your energy up.” This was the same woman who, not a week ago, told Seiichi he would get fat if he continued to shovel wontons into his ramen.

“Thank you, I will heed your advice.” Sanada bowed and watched the fish again. The occupants of the table stared in rapt fascination as Sanada raised his chopsticks and poised them over the fish. He took a deep breathe, held it, then lowered his chopsticks. “My apologies, my heart wishes to comply, but I am afraid my stomach is too full to allow it. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Yukimura’s mother leaned over to pat Sanada on the hand. “It’s okay dear. Don’t force yourself.” She sent Yukimura a small smile and a wink while Sanada’s head was still turned down.

Yukimura was very close with his mother. He told her everything, from his difficulties at school to his more recent dealings with Sanada. He’d never told her, outright, that he was interested in the boy, but she was neither dumb nor oblivious. And now, she was taunting him.

“You boys go upstairs and study. Mom and I will clean the table and call you when dessert is ready.” Yukimura’s father reached forward and took their fish plates. He, too, winked at Yukimura.

Seiichi rose and dragged Sanada from the room as fast as he could. “I’m sorry,” he said once they’d reached the safety of his room. “My parents like to tease me.”

“It’s what parents do,” Sanada said, removing his history text from his backpack.

“It’s a shame Renji couldn’t be here. My parents are a little more reserved around him.” Yukimura also took out his history text. “Would you like something to drink? I’m going to go get a soda.”

“Water please.” Sanada opened his book and began to study.

Yukimura ran down the stairs. He needed to speak to his parents before they ruined everything. He found them washing dishes together in the kitchen. “Please don’t say anything weird in front of Sanada. He’s a very conservative person.”

They turned, both smiling as they scrubbed. “He’s wonderful dear,” Yukimura’s mother said.

“And the son of a lawyer,” Yukimura’s father added. “We won’t have to worry that you won’t be provided for.”

Yukimura’s mother reached for the drying towel. “We were concerned that you were interested in Yanagi-kun. While he’s a very nice boy, he doesn’t seem reliable enough for you. We like Sanada-kun much more.”

“We’re not going out. I’m trying to get him to join the tennis club.” Just once, Yukimura would like to have a normal conversation with his parents. “Please do not insinuate anything while he’s here.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Yukimura’s father asked, putting the plates away.

Yukimura blushed. He did like Sanada, quite a bit, so much that he’d been more or less stalking the boy. Did Sanada think Yukimura was desperate? Was that why Sanada was being distant? “Yes, I like him, but I want him to play tennis and be my friend first. _Do not_ mess this up for me!”

“Seiichi, don’t get over-excited,” his mother warned. “Remember your condition.”

Yukimura did not want to think of his condition. He wanted his parents to promise to leave Sanada alone. “I’m fine, mom. Nothing bad is going to happen. And don’t tell Sanada about it, either. You promised we’d keep it a secret unless it caused problems.”

“You should tell him,” Yukimura’s father argued, moving to place a hand on his son’s shoulder. “He’ll be hurt later on if you don’t.”

Yukimura shrugged his father off and moved to the fridge, removing a bottled water and a peach Ramune. “I’m going back up to study. See you at dessert.” He walked away, pausing. “Put extra whipped cream on Sanada’s. He likes sweet things.”


	3. Chapter 3

  
If Sanada had not been warned of Yukimura’s crush, their study session would’ve been enough to clue him in. Yukimura was a touchy boy, but the frivolous touches and foot brushes went above and beyond Yukimura’s usual shoulder hugs and taps on the back. Sanada fought off blushes several times during the study period. He was not an easily flustered person, but Yukimura Seiichi was confusing. His overly friendly family aside, Yukimura was, from what Sanada saw, a powerful and intimidating force on the tennis courts. Off of them, he was not ordinary per se, but normal. He smiled, he helped friends with studies, and he routinely brought treats to share. Sanada appreciated the treats, but wished that Yukimura would be a little more serious about things. Tennis was fine, but there was a future to be planned for. Tennis didn’t pay bills or support families.

Yukimura’s crush on Sanada was unproductive. Sanada was going to marry a nice girl and have a family. He was going to provide his parents with grandchildren who, in their time, would continue the Sanada family line. Ideally, Sanada wanted two boys; one to continue the law practice and one to run the dojo. A girl wouldn’t be bad, she could easily slip into either roll, but it would be more difficult for her, and Sanada did not wish such a future onto anyone.

“You’re thinking awfully hard, Sanada. Is there something I can help you with?”

Sanada jumped as Yukimura’s chin landed on his shoulder. He shrugged the other boy off. “I was thinking. I do not require help.”

“Just wanted to make sure.” Yukimura scooted a few feet across the floor, returning to his own books. “European history is boring, ne? I can’t keep all these kings and queens straight.”

Sanada passed Yukimura his notes. “I’ve charted them out, along with any major accomplishments in the time period. Copying the chart might assist you.” While Yukimura copied the notes, there was little for Sanada to do but look about the room. The walls were beige, sprinkled with the occasional tennis poster. The impressive part of the room was the trophy case, filled with junior championship medals and statuary. It was reminiscent of the trophy hall in the dojo, where Sanada’s own trophies were showcased. “You are very accomplished.”

“I’ve been playing since I was five,” Yukimura said, quickly transcribing Sanada’s notes. “I will be tennis captain in my third year.” Yukimura looked up and smiled. There was something in the smile that forced Sanada’s pulse to accelerate. It was a challenge, almost a dare. “I was hoping you would join me on the team.” Yukimura set the notes aside and scooted closer. “Renji is going to be my Singles Three, but I need someone capable to be my fukubuchou and Singles Two player.” Again, he scooted closer.

Sanada grabbed his textbook and held it like a shield between himself and Yukimura. “I do not play tennis. I plan to be kendo team captain.” Yukimura’s chest was touching the book, his hands moving to wrap around Sanada’s.

“You’re being wasted on the kendo team.” Yukimura huffed and moved back until he was no longer touching Sanada. “They have plenty of talented players, and none of them are up to your skill level. You’re not being challenged, so you’ll never get to refine your skills.” Yukimura glared at the ground. “If you joined the tennis team, you’d find new challenges and advance yourself. I want you to succeed.”

Sanada watched Yukimura’s eyes, noting the sincerity in them. “True, there is little challenge among my current teammates, but I do not wish for my kendo skills to fade. I have the dojo to consider.” Also, Sanada did not enjoy tennis. There was no thrill in hitting a little green ball with a racquet over and over again. Kendo was a battle. Tennis was a game.

“Then teach me.” Yukimura moved forward faster than Sanada could raise his textbook shield. “Teach me kendo to hone your skills as an instructor.”

A tempting offer, indeed. Instructing was the final area that Sanada’s father wished him to work on, but Sanada didn’t feel comfortable soliciting his few friends into training at the dojo. “In return I am to join the tennis team, correct?”

Yukimura nodded. “Let me teach you tennis, and you can teach me kendo. At the end of the year, we’ll reassess our deal. Sound good?”

Sanada considered the deal. He would get valuable teaching experience and, if Yukimura was right, he’d also gain new perspectives on kendo through tennis. Sanada was more than skeptical of that final proviso, but certainly he, through determination, could pull something useful out of this arrangement. Yukimura seemed to truly delight in the idea and, much to Sanada’s distaste, he was finding that he rather enjoyed that look of delight on Yukimura. It lit up the room and warmed Sanada’s stomach.

“I accept your offer.” Sanada bowed to seal the deal. “Please finish with my notes quickly, I have much work to do.”

“Of course, Genichirou-kun.” Yukimura’s pleased expression was enough to distract Sanada from arguing over the inappropriate use of his name.

 **& -&**

Yukimura was a witch. There was no other, logical explanation for why, after three weeks, Sanada was still on the tennis team, and improving at that. The whole spectacle was giving Renji the creeps. According to previous behavioral patterns, Sanada was supposed to be practicing with the kendo team. Sanada quit the kendo team the week previous after demolishing the team captain in a match. The kendo team’s coach begged Sanada not to quit, but Sanada was ruthless. He said there was nothing he could learn from such a weak team. The coach was almost crying.

Yukimura was watching from around the corner, smiling to himself. Renji observed everything from the safety of a second story window. Somehow, in the last few weeks, something shifted between Sanada and Yukimura. It was now Renji’s task to figure out what, exactly, Yukimura was doing to taint Sanada’s mental functions.

 **& -&**

Kendo was difficult. The shinai didn’t seem heavy, but after moving through katas for an hour, Yukimura’s arms ached. Still, Sanada required two hours of practice every other day, and Yukimura was required to practice on his own in the off-training days. He would get used to the weight and his tennis game would benefit from the extra muscle.

“Your stance is falling apart. Stop.” Sanada moved from his position near the sword rack he’d been dusting as part of his after-hours work and used his foot to widen Yukimura’s stance. “There. Begin again.”

“Sanada, my arms hurt. Can’t we stop for a moment?” Yukimura rarely complained, but his arms were barely able to rise today. Obara-buchou made the first years do racquet forms all practice. Yukimura theorized that Obara-buchou was angry that Sanada, who’d never played tennis before, beat a second year during Monday’s practice matches. Yukimura was so proud of Sanada’s performance that day that he treated Sanada and Renji to expensive desserts. Renji tried to excuse himself from the celebration but Sanada wouldn’t have it.

Yukimura frowned and began his katas again. Something was definitely wrong with Yanagi-kun. He was avoiding Yukimura, which wasn’t so bad really except that Yukimura enjoyed Renji’s company. It filled in the time between Yukimura’s meetings with Sanada, and Renji was a wonderful person to discuss tennis with. Sanada didn’t’ discuss tennis, or much of anything else.

“Continue.” Sanada said, his attention still on his dusting.

“Hai.” Yukimura inhaled, tasting his own sweat, then raised the shinai. His arms burned and his back wasn’t much happier, but he continued on. Sanada completed the same racquet forms at practice in addition to a more strenuous series of katas before Yukimura came, at which point Sanada demonstrated Yukimura’s kata sequence twice. If Sanada could do it, then Yukimura could, and better.

“Your stance is slipping.” Sanada grunted, stalking over and putting a hand to Yukimura’s shinai. “Stop. You’ve lost your focus.”

“I’m sorry.” Yukimura felt Sanada’s stare like small needles sliding across his spine. The urge to press forward, ever so slightly, so their lips would touch was intense. Yukimura stepped back, drawing his tongue across his lips to remind himself that now was not the time for ridiculous thoughts.

“You are dehydrated.” Sanada took Yukimura’s hand and pinched at the skin at the bottom of his forefinger. “Did you not drink water before you came? Between your katas?”

Yukimura was always careful to stay hydrated but, before he could protest, he stopped to listen to his body. His mouth was dry. His fingers itched from dry skin. “I suppose I didn’t. How embarrassing.”

Sanada moved away, returning shortly with a water bottle. “Drink, and do not be so careless again. You can permanently damage your body if you work this hard in a dehydrated state.”

“This has never happened before,” Yukimura explained after taking a long, refreshing sip of the lukewarm water. “I must’ve been too concerned with my talk with Obara-buchou to think straight.”

“About that,” Sanada stopped to take the bottle away, “do not overdrink or your stomach will be upset.” He took a drink himself before setting the bottle aside. “Regarding Obara-buchou. You do not play him at your full strength. Why?”

“It’s very good of you to notice.” Not even Renji noticed that Yukimura was holding back in his matches with Obara. Perhaps Sanada knew because he was aware of Yukimura’s strength from long kendo training sessions.

“You do not appear to enjoy playing him as much as you do when you practice with the machine in the gym. Your muscles do not fully tense and your eyes wander. You look bored.” Sanada held up the water bottle. “It is safe to have more.”

The sipper of the bottle was still moist from Sanada’s earlier drink. For a moment, thoughts of indirect kisses and shared illnesses flitted through Yukimura’s mind. Stray thoughts were much better than anything concerning Obara-buchou. “I thought it would be unwise to upset him this early.”

“If you want to be a regular, you will need to step up soon or you will not be invited until next year.” Sanada took the bottle away again. “First years can only become regulars if they defeat two current regulars in a challenge match and win three games against the current buchou.”

“You’ve been researching.”

“Obara-buchou told me. He wants me to challenge at one of next week’s practices.” Sanada frowned. “He says he will throw three games to ensure that I am on the team.”

Yukimura was unaware that he was showing his anger until Sanada took the shinai from Yukimura’s red-splotched hands. “Oh, really?” It was the only non-violent thing Yukimura could think of to say. Obara-buchou had a girlfriend; he had no business propositioning Sanada in such a manner. “I suppose I will challenge next week as well, then. It wouldn’t do for my pupil to surpass me, would it?”

“I do not want to be a regular.” Sanada put the shinai away, even though Yukimura had yet to finish his katas. “I will not be challenging anyone next week.”

“Sanada, don’t go against Obara’s wishes. Things will be difficult for you if you do. He is very powerful.” Obara, as captain of the team, had access to the principal, whom Obara’d wrapped around his honor student’s finger.

“Are you afraid?” Sanada sneered.

“No, just cautious. I was waiting to make my move until the second half of the season.” Yukimura moved forward and took the water bottle from Sanada. Dehydration stung at the back of Yukimura’s throat, but was soon soothed by a rush of water. “I will have to convince Renji to challenge as well or our domination will not be properly set up.” Yukimura took another sip. “But really, Sanada, your techniques are still so far off that I’m surprised Obara asked you. Your smash form is atrocious.”

“It works.” Sanada took the water bottle back. “It is time to sweep the floors. We are done for today.”

“It works, but it looks so sloppy. Tennis and kendo are different sports, Sanada, you should not try to merge them.” Yukimura accepted the cloth broom and began to sweep up the dojo floor. “I’ll admit the stance is good, but the racquet forms are so convoluted, I’m amazed you manage to hit the ball at all.”

“I will challenge next week and prove the efficiency of my methods, then.”

Yukimura smiled. “Renji and I will challenge as well. I hope you can keep up.”


	4. Chapter 4

Renji sat across the table from Yukimura in a small coffee shop, two train stops east of Yukimura’s home. Tennis practice concluded early and, after Obara-buchou pulled Sanada aside to offer assistance with Sanada’s smash technique, Yukimura, red-faced, dragged Renji off the court and demanded they have coffee. Renji did not resist.

“We’re going to challenge next week, Renji. We need to make an early statement by joining the regulars in our first year.” Yukimura toyed with his vanilla latte but did not drink it.

“Is this about Obara-buchou helping Sanada?” Renji was ninety percent certain it was, but to say so would be to invoke Yukimura’s wrath. If the icy stares Yukimura was tossing at Obara were any indication, Yukimura’s wrath was not something long survived.

“No, it is about placing ourselves at the head of Rikkai tennis politics. When the three of us become regulars, we will be the first to join in our first year in over ten years. We’ll also be the largest group of first years to make regulars in all of Rikkai history.” Yukimura continued to stir his latte,

“I believe that you and I can easily make it through the two initial challenges, but I am uncertain as to Obara-buchou’s abilities to block my tennis style.” Renji was, in fact, not particularly concerned with Obara-buchou, but some reservation would make Yukimura feel good. If Yukimura could rally Renji’s spirits, then the boy was twenty times less likely to take Renji’s head off when Renji mentioned that a snail with a racquet taped to its shell had a better chance of beating Obara than Sanada did. Renji was going to word it more tactfully, of course but, nevertheless, Sanada wasn’t going to make regulars. “I am also concerned that Sanada will have difficulty facing buchou.”

“Sanada can take care of himself.” The acid in Yukimura’s tone startled Renji enough that his chai, now three quarters gone, sloshed dangerously high to the brim of his mug.

“I did not mean to offend, I just…”

“Obara’s going to throw the match.” Yukimura said it as a matter of course, as he said most things. But, from the violent sip Yukimura took of his no doubt cold latte, Renji knew that his pseudo-friend was upset.

Renji took a breathe and readied himself for what would be a very dangerous and unpleasant experience. He was going to engage Yukimura Seiichi in a discussion on feelings.

 **& -&**

If Obara-buchou were to turn sideways, he would disappear. That was Sanada’s first impression of the Rikkaidai Fuzoku tennis club captain. As days passed and Sanada was called out for compulsory practices with Obara, his opinion altered only in so much that he was amazed such a small thing could hit the tennis ball with enough force to slam it through Sanada’s racquet. To Sanada’s credit, it only happened once, while Sanada was unprepared to properly return the ball, but the incident was a humbling experience; also, a challenge.

Sanada wanted to crush Obara Koji. Sanada wanted to crush him and make him repent of every bad thing he’d ever said against Yanagi and Yukimura. Yanagi was Sanada’s friend; Yukimura, Sanada’s instructor. Sanada would not stand idly by while some pompous third year with wrists the size of needles badmouthed his companions. Also, Obara was making inappropriate overtures.

“Would you like to come to dinner this evening, Sanada-kun? My mother bought a pineapple and made a wonderful cake with it.” Obara served, lightly, before moving to the net. Obara played a serve and volley style that made optimal use of his flexible frame.

Sanada returned with a lob, moving to the baseline. “I am studying with friends this evening. I will have to decline.” Sanada shifted his stance, widening it a bit more than usual. There was a move he wanted to try, not at full strength, but just enough to see if it would work.

“What subject? I would be happy to tutor you.” Obara smashed, sending the ball in line straight for Sanada.

No, the speed wasn’t fast enough for the move yet. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” Sanada returned the ball, another lob. Watching Obara run to the baseline to retrieve it was rather fun, the same way throwing a Frisbee for a puppy was fun.

“It’s no inconvenience. Besides, I would like to speak with you about the future, Sanada-kun.” A return, faster this time.

Sanada curled his stance inward before rushing the ball with a burst of speed. “I have been told that it is more important to focus on the present,” he said, watching as Obara investigated the scuff mark at the far, left corner of the court. The ball was out but, with more practice, it could be in and twice as powerful.

“What was that move?” Obara jumped the net in a fluid, graceful movement.

“Invade like fire.” Sanada looked down at his buchou, who came only to his collarbone. The move was a derivate of a kendo stance. Sanada imagined a full series of moves, each balancing the other out. He was going to complete his series and beat Yukimura, proving that you could play kendo-tennis and win. Obara-buchou would be his test subject.

Obara took hold of Sanada’s racquet arm. “Very impressive. You’ve channeled your strength and accuracy into a single killing blow.” Obara’s hand moved to clasp Sanada’s bicep. “I want to train you to be the future buchou of Rikkai. You’ll be fukubuchou next year, working with Miyabashi-kun, then buchou in your third year.” He squeezed the bicep again. “You’ll be perfect.”

Sanada pulled his arm away. “Yukimura-kun or Yanagi-kun would be a better candidate. It is still uncertain as to whether or not I will be playing next year. The kendo team still has potential.”

“Potential?” Obara laughed, low and sliding. “If they had potential you never would’ve left. Give it some time.” A dove soft hand slid along the full length of Sanada’s arm. “Think on it while you’re studying with your friends this evening. We’ll discuss it further once you’re a regular.”

“Hai.” Sanada turned and walked toward the clubroom. He needed a shower before he could go home. Sanada could envision a slime trail where Obara had touched him. Thankfully, Yukimura wasn’t due to the dojo for another hour.

 **& -&**

Yukimura sipped at his cold vanilla latte, pretending not to have heard Renji’s question. Yukimura did not, at present, wish to discuss how things were progressing with Sanada beyond saying that Sanada’s tennis was improving and he was ready to challenge for a regular’s spot. Yukimura did not want to discuss any other motivations he might have for soliciting Sanada to the tennis team. Renji knew, of course, but polite individuals knew and kept it to themselves.

“Perhaps my query was improperly stated.” Renji smiled, no doubt mocking Yukimura in his brain. “I meant to ask you if you are satisfied with your current personal relationship with Sanada.” Here Renji paused and smiled again. “I am aware that you are interested in Sanada in an…extracurricular sense and I, being his friend of many years, am prepared to assist you in any way you deem necessary. I have a volume of data on Sanada that you might find useful but, in order for me to determine what information would best serve your purpose, we will have to discuss what that purpose is.” Renji sat back in his chair and rubbed at his nose with the knuckle of his forefinger. It was something he did before he began memorizing everything you said and every move you made.

Yukimura willed his shoulders to relax, his hands to unclench from around his latte mug, now void of beverage. “I believe you are mistaken, Yanagi-kun. I am acting out of concern for the future of the tennis club.”

“That,” Yanagi said, “is a contradiction. If you recall, you once asked me if Sanada would agree to a visit to the amusement park. It is highly improbable that, at that juncture, when Sanada was regularly attending practices, your actions were solely for the good of the tennis team. Calculating the funds required to travel to and from the park, the entrance fee, the food costs, and any incidental souvenirs, a cost-benefit analysis finds that taking Sanada to the amusement park is inefficient.”

Yanagi-kun’s lack of tact was one of the main reasons he was no longer going to be Yukimura’s fukubuchou. “It was a goodwill gesture meant to continue fostering a sense of kinship between Sanada-kun and myself.”

“So you admit that your goal was to better your relationship with Sanada. Good, we are agreed on that, then.” Renji opened his bookbag and took out a notebook. “I have charted out your efforts to get closer to Sanada. You fail, primarily, because of your circuitous methodology.” Renji pointed to numbers and charts that Yukimura couldn’t decipher.

“I appreciate your concern, but I am not…”

“Denying the obvious is a sign of weakness.” Yanagi pointed again to his graphs. “Sanada showed signs of interest here,” he pointed to a date, two weeks previous, “when he deviated from his usual Tuesday routine to assist you in cleaning the clubhouse.” Yanagi paused, closing the notebook. “What I fail to understand is _why_ you’ve chosen Sanada. Given your character and social standing within the class, Sanada is an illogical choice.”

Yukimura stared at the closed book. Denial really was useless, particularly since Renji knew all along. “I’d rather not discuss this here.” He looked at the time on his cell. “I will be late for practice with Sanada if we take too long.”

“We shall continue our discussion tomorrow at lunch, then.” Renji stood, placing enough money on the table to cover both beverages. Yukimura smiled, agreed, and jogged toward the train station, glad to be away from Yanagi and his uncomfortable questions.

 **& -&**

The next day, Sanada was pulled from his classroom by a pink haired boy by the name of Marui Bunta. Marui dragged Sanada through the halls and out onto the lawn, where a number of the tennis regulars were waiting. “Buchou says you’re eating with us now.” A bright green bubble slipped between Marui’s lips, popped, and was gone. “Your form sucks, but you’ve got a lot of power, which is good. You’re zero in the finesse department, which is my specialty, so buchou wanted me to work with you.”

“I do not require your help, nor do I believe a first year non-regular capable of assisting me.” Despite his annoyance, Sanada sat down where he was told, aware of Obara’s eyes on him.

“I’m the school’s selection for the Newcomer Tournament, so I know what I’m doing.” Marui took out an obscenely large bento from his schoolbag. “Besides, you practice with Yukimura-kun almost every day and he’s not allowed to sit with the regulars at lunch. You’ve got to start making good friends if you want to succeed, Sanada-kun.” Marui’s eyes darted to the regulars, who were busy chatting amongst themselves. “Look,” he whispered, “just go along with it to make buchou happy and we can both get out of this ahead of the rest.”

Sanada looked away. He did not want to be ahead of the rest. He wanted to win this absurd competition with Yukimura then be on his way. “I appreciate your concern, but I am uninterested in team politics. I’m returning to my classroom now. I have studying to do.” Sanada rose, dusting grass off his uniform.

“Oh no you don’t.” Marui reached up and grabbed Sanada’s arm, pulling the other boy back down in a surprising display of strength. “It may be alright for you to just walk away, but they’ll murder me if you do, so sit your ass down.” Marui’s good natured smile was gone, replaced by something a little more vicious. “Until Yukimura wipes the floor with these guys, the rest of us are stuck, so just help your future teammate out and keep your mouth closed while Obara pretends people respect him.”

Sanada suspected that any further attempts at escape would be foiled. Marui was quick and knew how to shift what scant weight he had to his advantage. An escape attempt would draw unwanted attention and probably get them detention for fighting on school grounds. “Fine.” Sanada reached over and took a tier from Marui’s bento. “My lunch is in the classroom. You will share yours.”

“I figured that would be the case, so I packed some extra.” Marui tapped his forehead with one finger. “Tensai, you know.”

  
 **& -&**

“Renji, who is that sitting with Sanada?” Yukimura was standing at the edge of the roof, fingers curled around the chain link fence.

“Marui Bunta, first year, elected to be our representative in the Newcomer Tournament next month. I wouldn’t worry about him too much; he’s trying to get out of Obara’s control.” Renji’s lunch for the day was boring. Marui-kun’s lunch was much more exciting. Perhaps tomorrow they could share again. Renji enjoyed lunches with Marui; he had the most bizarre insights and the most fascinating stories. Marui would be a fine addition to the regulars when he got his Tsunawatari shot together.

“He appears to be bothering Sanada. Perhaps you ought to speak with him on that, since you’re such good friends.” Yukimura was smiling and his voice was light and calm. The way Yukimura’s fingers dug into the fence, causing it to shake ever so slightly was the only sign that Yukimura was not handling things as well as he might.

“I have enlisted Marui-kun’s assistance in obtaining data on Obara-buchou. Marui does not have any personal interest in Sanada. Please calm down.” Renji wasn’t sure how Yukimura could function with such volatile emotions. “Perhaps now would be an appropriate time to discuss your thoughts on Sanada? He is occupied and we appear to be alone.” After Sanada threw a piece of concrete at an overzealous female classmate and scarred her face, the roof had been abandoned, marked as Sanada’s territory.

“I would much rather discuss your serve accuracy. You should be focusing for the matches next week.” Yukimura’s gaze wandered around the roof. “It’s very quiet up here.”

“This is not helping you solve your problem. While there is a forty percent chance Sanada’s lunch companions are the source of your distraction, I am convinced there is a larger reason you are avoiding the topic of your relationship with Sanada.”

“There is no relationship, Renji. There’s tennis.” Yukimura let out a long, soft sigh. “For all the time we spend on the court and in the dojo, he hasn’t invited me to his home for dinner once. Even you’ve invited me over for dinner.”

“Sanada does not invite anyone over for dinner. I’ve never been inside his house.” Not that Renji hadn’t tried. Renji attempted scheme after scheme to get invited into Sanada’s house, but none of Renji’s plans ever succeeded. “He’s a very private person. Though we’ve been acquaintances for years, the closest he lets me come to the interior of his home is the dojo. From the data I’ve gathered, this has been the case with all of his social relationships.”

Yukimura moved away from the fence and back toward his lunch. “That can’t be healthy for him, living such a secret life.” Yukimura looked down at his bento and picked up his chopsticks, poking at his rice. Yukimura played with his food when he was thinking or when he was upset. Renji concluded that the mixture of the two emotions was why Yukimura only had two bites taken out of his lunch. Yukimura always finished his lunch when Sanada was around. Everyone finished their lunches when Sanada was around. Genichirou believed in clean plates and bodies well fueled for strenuous training. Sanada was going to make an excellent father if Yukimura didn’t get his act together.

“Judging from Sanada’s values and restraint, it is likely that his family is very traditional. If such were the case, then it is only natural that he refrain from bringing home anyone that might be an embarrassment.” Renji knew that his normal behavior, while socially acceptable and highly efficient in gathering data, might seem odd to the more conservative set. He did not fault Sanada for wanting to keep their friendship out of view from Sanada’s parents. He was more than slightly hurt, but he understood. “But, in regards to your own interest in Sanada…”

“Renji,” Yukimura warned, closing his bento and putting it away. “I am not in the mood for this.”

Renji took a small steno from his back pocket. “While you have not been in the mood to discuss these things, approximately one third of the first year class female population has. After joining the tennis club, Sanada’s popularity has risen and he is now the third most popular boy in the class.” Yanagi flipped to a different page. “A brief discussion with some of the girls in his class revealed that Sanada’s most appealing trait is his frank nature. Girls believe that Sanada-kun will make a wonderful husband and, as such, wish to claim him early on, before his range of experience widens and he is attracted to a girl from a different school.” A quick glance revealed Yukimura to be clutching his bento. He looked worried. Good. “Sanada’s second most appealing trait is his physical prowess, particularly his upper body strength, as demonstrated yesterday when he carried Michiko-chan to the infirmary after she collapsed from an attack of anemia.” Renji flipped the page again. There was no information on the page, but Renji knew the data of this particular situation by heart as every girl on campus was talking about it. “Additionally, after taking Michiko-chan to the infirmary, Sanada assisted the art club in moving one of the larger pieces of statuary in the room. Obara-buchou’s girlfriend is a member of the art club. Photographs of the move were taken by several of the club members and it is likely that they will be included in the yearbook. I have taken the liberty of acquiring a few of the photographs, particularly those taken by Obara’s girlfriend. I assumed you would not want photographs of Sanada without his shirt circulating around the school.”

Yukimura’s eyes snapped toward Renji. “You are vile. Give them to me. Now. We will destroy them.” Yukimura’s tone was ambiguous and Renji found it difficult to discern whether it was Yukimura’s intent to destroy the photos, the fangirls, or both.

“I am afraid I do not have them on my person. I can assure you, however, that they are in a safe location.” The photos were, in fact, in Renji’s lockbox under his desk at home. The lock was a twelve number combination that only one other person in the world knew the combination to. “Perhaps, should you care to discuss certain issues of import, we might come to a mutually beneficial solution for disposing of the photos.” Renji’s smile twitched with euphoric power and the knowledge that Yukimura Seiichi was, perhaps for the first time in his life, beaten.


	5. Chapter 5

That afternoon at practice, Sanada paired up with Marui in opening rallies. Obara-buchou and Miyabashi-fukubuchou rallied on the next court over, occasionally stopping to give a few bits of advice to the first year favorites. Marui did not enjoy the attention because, as a tensai, he was never wrong, just experimenting. Sanada did not enjoy the attention because Obara’s suggestions were usually more tactile in nature and Sanada, as a first year, was not allowed to punch his buchou and remain on the team. When the season was over and Obara was ready to graduate, Sanada was going to cash in on the beatings Obara had coming to him.

“Sanada, your arm is still arching wide on your return. Here, try it this way.” Obara adjusted Sanada’s arm. Sanada adjusted it back.

“I am aware of my stance. It is a tactical approach and I am evaluating it for use with the move I showed to buchou yesterday. I hope you will pardon my sloppy form until that time.” Sanada’s voice lacked any sorrow or sincerity. He wanted Obara to get the hint and get away.

“Sugoi Sanada-kun!” a girl called from outside the court. Sanada did not know her name, nor did he want to.

“You seem to be getting a pretty big following Genichirou.” Obara clapped Sanada on the back. “She’s been to every practice so far.”

“She used to frequent the kendo team practices. If you do not encourage her, she will leave.” Sanada returned his attention to his rally partner, who was practicing his bubblegum technique. Sanada refrained from informing Obara that he did not have the right to call Sanada by his first name. If Sanada focused on playing tennis, he could wade through the afternoon more or less unscathed until practice with Yukimura.

Obara, hand still in the curve of Sanada’s back, chuckled. “I doubt she’s going anywhere, but you can always hope. I’ll see if we can’t get coach to limit spectators.” Another pat, and Obara was gone.

Marui moved up to the net and beckoned Sanada over. “So, you always let people feel you up in the middle of practice?”

“He was not feeling me up,” Sanada looked down at Marui, wanting to grab the gum out of the genki boy’s mouth and have quiet tennis instead of spastic bubble practice.

“Rubbing someone’s back at length is normal, then?” Marui looked skeptical.

Sanada took a deep breathe and counted backwards from twenty before he spoke. Yelling at Marui wouldn’t help anything right now. Sanada could always yell at Marui tomorrow. “I do not wish to discuss this matter. It is your turn to serve.” He tossed a tennis ball across the court and Marui caught it with his racquet.

&-&

“I have served the ball three times. If it is not your intention to attempt a return, please inform me so I will not waste my energy.” Renji contemplated lobbing the ball at Yukimura’s head but, seeing that Obara was standing next to Sanada, it was doubtful Yukimura would notice.

“Does Monday sound like a good day for challenging, Renji?” Yukimura’s attention was still on Sanada’s court. “The sooner the better, yes? I think Sanada’s ready.”

Renji served. Yukimura didn’t notice. “Monday will suffice if it will divert your attention back to the matter at hand.”

Yukimura turned and smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Renji. My attention is on the matter at hand.”

Yanagi served and, this time, Yukimura received. “If the matter at hand is staring at Sanada, then yes, you are addressing the issue with maximum diligence. However, if the matter at hand is tennis practice, as I believe it is, your dedication is lacking.” Renji hit the ball back.

“Yanagi-kun, are you jealous?” Yukimura’s racquet moved faster than Renji’s eyes could register. The ball left a scuff mark next to Renji’s left foot. Yukimura moved to the net, hand extended. “Come shake hands, Renji.”

Renji stood, staring at the scuff mark. He’d never experienced a return of that caliber before. “I would rather not,” he said, finally. He refrained from mentioning that it was generally bad policy to shake the hand of the devil.

“We must observe the rules, Yanagi-kun. Come shake.” Yukimura moved his hand forward a little more. Renji relented. Yukimura would stand there all day if need be. Yukimura grabbed Renji’s hand as soon as it was within reach and took hold, hard. “You’ve not been deceiving me, have you, Yanagi-kun? Certainly you haven’t been feigning interest in my cause, all the while intending to pursue Sanada for your own causes, have you?”

“You may be assured that I have no such interests in Genichirou,” Renji answered in a voice slightly higher than he was accustomed. Yukimura Seiichi was a nut, and Renji had helped ensure Sanada’s capture by said nut.

“Fantastic.” Yukimura released Renji’s hand and smiled, bright and open. “As I was saying, we’ll challenge on Monday and they should have our regular jerseys in by the end of the week, just in time for the mock tournament.”

“Yes, Yukimura.”

&-&

“Sanada, I don’t believe that associating with Yukimura Seiichi will be good for you.” Renji and Sanada walked down a bustling street a few blocks away from Rikkai. They were going to study at a nearby café and meet at Yukimura’s for a tennis strategy meeting after dinner.

Sanada didn’t reply, but turned toward Renji to show he was listening. There was little use in speaking when Renji was trying to explain something.

“He has an unhealthy fixation on you. I believe he will do you bodily harm if you do not reciprocate.” Renji reached into his tennis bag and pulled out a small steno notebook. “If my estimations are correct, there is an eighty-seven percent chance that he will physically injure Obara-buchou in their match. Twenty percent probability to the stomach. Seventy-five percent probability to the head. There is a ten percent chance that, after the match, Obara will not be able to play tennis again.”

“You are overreacting.” Sanada also thought Yukimura was a little off, but off in a ‘Let’s Hold Hands, Sanada’ way, not in a ‘Kill All Who Oppose Me’ sort of way. With time, Yukimura would figure out that Sanada wasn’t interested in dating, particularly not another male. If Yukimura didn’t understand it, then Sanada would explain it.

“He bruised my wrist because he thought I was trying to take you away from him.” Renji lifted up said bruised wrist.

Sanada reached forward and examined Renji’s bruises, ignoring the other boy’s hisses as he poked and prodded at the skin. “It’s fine.”

“You’re defending him. Interesting.” Yanagi jotted down a few notes.

“I’m trying to end your whining.” Sanada picked up his pace, not looking to see if Renji would follow. Renji always followed. “If you have something useful to discuss, then do so. If you are going to continue speculating about Yukimura’s sanity, then do so silently as I am not interested.” Renji used to be a good companion after school. Since he started spending time with Yukimura, Renji’s behavior had changed drastically.

“Worrying about your well being is not whining, Sanada.”

Sanada stopped and stared. “Next you’ll tell me Yukimura is possessed by the devil, I suppose.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. There’s only a ten percent probability for that conclusion. The top two explanations for his behavior are an emotional fixation on you, and drug use. The third most likely is sadism.”

Sanada continued walking. He would speak with Yukimura about Renji’s problems privately. Perhaps he and Yukimura could devise an intervention for Renji before the data tennis player did himself harm.

&-&

Yukimura lay on his bed, chuckling to himself. By now Renji was telling Sanada about the incident at practice. Renji would say that Yukimura was crazy and obsessive and, if Sanada was the proto-fukubuchou that Yukimura hoped he was, Sanada would defend Yukimura. If Sanada were perfect fukubuchou material, he would tell Yukimura about the discussion and want to come to a solution together.

The painful part in Sanada’s fukubuchou evaluation was the waiting. Yukimura was patient, but the whirling feeling in his stomach when he thought about standing next to Sanada, ordering a team full of sweaty tennis players to do an impossible number of laps and being obeyed, was becoming unbearable. He wanted this future, this bright and beautiful kingdom of tennis, and he wanted Sanada to be there. No one, particularly Obara Koji, was going to get in Yukimura’s way.

&-&

“Sanada-kun, Yanagi-kun, it’s lovely to see you.” Yukimura’s mother stood at the door, a tea tray in her hands. “Seiichi is freshening up and will be down directly. Please join me for some tea.”

“It is always a pleasure to visit your home. Thank you for having us.” As planned, Renji spoke for both himself and Sanada. Sanada felt uncomfortable around Yukimura’s mother, which was understandable, given that she had a pair of slippers at the door with Sanada’s initials embroidered on the toe. Renji got the guest slippers.

“Sanada-kun, are your studies going well?” Yukimura-san looked straight through Renji and pushed the tea tray toward Sanada. “I made the cucumber sandwiches you enjoy.”

“Thank you. I hope it wasn’t a bother.” Sanada took the tea and the sandwich, which, according to Renji’s data, was one of his least favorite foods, and bowed. “My studies continue to do well, though I am afraid my mathematics have fallen behind in the last week and I will need to give extra attention to my studies when I have met my tennis club obligations.”

Yukimura-san handed Renji a cup and sandwich. “And you, Yanagi-kun? Are you still trying to become a regular on the tennis team?”

Renji hoped Sanada appreciated his tolerance of Yukimura-san’s plastic smile and blatant disinterest. “I am. I anticipate that my training will breed success at next week’s challenge match.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, dear.” Yukimura-san turned and yelled up the stairs. “Seiichi, it’s impolite to keep your guests waiting!” She turned back to Sanada and Yanagi and laughed. “My apologies for my son’s bad manners. Please do not think less of him for them.”

Sanada, to whom the statement was addressed – Yukimura-san was continuing to ignore Renji’s presence – nodded and looked away quickly. Yanagi would look away too if he were being appraised like cattle. Soon Yukimura-san was going to show Sanada all of Yukimura’s dental records and discuss adoption procedures the two could undergo after their bonding ceremony, for which it was eighty percent likely that Yukimura-san was already preparing.

“Did you wait long?” Yukimura Seiichi hopped down the stairs, hair wet from a shower, clothes still clinging to him from moisture. Yanagi was ninety-seven percent sure that Yukimura was delayed because he was trying to find a shirt to go with his aqua pants, which appeared to be a size too small.

“Not long. We were having tea and these wonderful sandwiches.” Again, Yanagi spoke when the question was clearly directed at Sanada. Renji didn’t know why he even bothered to come, beside the fact that Yukimura insisted.

“Good.” Yukimura looked to Renji as if just noticing he was in the room. “Why don’t you both come up to my room and we can begin planning our strategy?” Yukimura’s smile was Cheshire bright. The walls seemed to be closing in.

&-&

Yukimura’s room was never meant to bear the burden of three people for long. Two was a comfortable capacity, but three drained the room of any oxygen, fogged the windows, and made the temperature so oppressive that Sanada was getting cranky. Yukimura’s whining wasn’t helping.

“We go, we play tennis, we win, we’re done. I do not understand why we need to strategize this.” Sanada’s voice was getting louder and louder.

“Because, Sanada-kun, we have to ensure a dramatic entry into…”

“Your preoccupation with drama is of no interest to me. I’m going home.” Sanada rose and began to leave. Renji caught him by the hem of his pants.

“Genichirou, please sit down.” There was a ninety percent chance that Sanada’s foul temper was directly linked to the temperature of the room. “Yukimura-kun, would it be possible to obtain some ice water?”

“I’ll be right back.” Yukimura left the room with a smile of warning for Renji. Sanada was to be there when Yukimura returned, the smile said, or Renji was never going to be a regular.

“This is ridiculous,” Sanada grumbled, sitting next to Yukimura’s bed, reclining against it.

“It’s very important to Yukimura-kun and, as we have previously agreed to assist him, we should honor our commitment, no matter how ludicrous the means.” Renji wasn’t going to explain how monumental their undertaking was. Sanada would neither understand nor care.

“I will assist you but I will do so in my own way.”

Renji sighed because there was nothing left to do. Sanada was as immovable as a mountain when he had his mind set on something. “Fine, just don’t tell Yukimura.”

&-&

Wrong. Everything was wrong. Sanada was supposed to be impressed with the plan for total tennis domination. Renji was supposed to support Yukimura’s plans with figures and that stupid tensai brain of his. There wasn’t supposed to be fighting and Sanada was not supposed to be sitting across from Yukimura, eating pineapple cake, and frowning. Yukimura took his phone out and began to quietly type out a message.

Renji’s phone rang and he started, bumping his knees on the underside of the table. He looked to his phone, then to Yukimura, then to his phone. “My mother needs me home,” he said. “I apologize that I will be unable to further assist with coordinating the challenge. Please call me if there are any problems.”

Yukimura smiled and slid his phone under his zabuton. “I’m sure Sanada and I will manage.”

“I will see you at school on Monday.” Sanada held a hand in the air, his version of a goodbye salute.

Renji bowed and scuttled away.

“Perhaps I am not explaining myself properly,” Yukimura said, holding his ice water in his hands, the numbing cold helping to settle his temper. “If we succeed in the challenge on Tuesday, we will be the first to make regulars in our first year in a decade. We will be the largest group of first years to do so in the history of the school. If we can begin our tennis career with that kind of reputation, we will have authority established. If we establish authority, we will have the means to shape the tennis club into the most powerful in the country.”

“Renji believes you are crazy.” Sanada said this with a straight face and proper posture.

Yukimura laughed and leaned forward. If he reached out, he could touch Sanada’s hand. He refrained, though, because Sanada wouldn’t approve. “Renji believes many things that aren’t true. If his data says I’m crazy, then that’s what he’ll believe, ne?”

“I am not altogether convinced that Yanagi is wrong, but I am willing to support your endeavor.” Sanada paused to take a large bite of cake. When he was done chewing, a piece of pineapple still clung to the side of his mouth. Yukimura reached forward and wiped it away with his thumb, knocking over a cup of tea in the process.

Sanada reacted to the spill like a trained fireman, swiping Renji’s discarded napkin as well as Yukimura’s unused one – Yukimura didn’t like pineapple – and spreading them across the spill. As the cloth napkins soaked up the tea, Sanada stood and headed for the kitchen.

Yukimura tried not to laugh in delight, but failed. Sanada was perfect, absolutely perfect, in everything.

&-&

The man standing on the tennis court, lording over a fallen second-year regular was not Sanada Genichirou, at least, not the Sanada Genichirou that Renji knew and in whose face Renji threw sand in third year primary because Sanada took the best swing and Renji was stuck with the swing that creaked and had a rusted chain near the seat that stained your uniform shorts if you sat on it too long. No, this Sanada Genichirou was a monster.

“Game, Sanada, six games to love,” Obara-buchou called, smiling down at the court from the referee seat. Obara never liked Mitsuhashi anyway.

“I see everything is going well.” Yukimura patted Renji on the shoulder and surveyed the courts. “Sanada is using half strength, which is good. We don’t want Obara knowing the full extent of his skill.”

Yukimura’s headband was ridiculous and made him look more like a girl than the powder blue shirts he wore on the weekend. “Half power? I was unaware Genichirou had progressed so far.” The statement was true enough. Renji knew Sanada had the _potential_ to acquire such strength, he just didn’t know that Sanada was actively pursuing it.

“It would seem there are many things about Sanada that you do not know.” Yukimura smiled and the sunlight twisted around him in a halo. “How unfortunate for you.” Renji received another pat to the shoulder and, with a “see you in a bit,” Yukimura was gone.

When Sanada left the courts, he made his way past Yukimura without so much as a sideways glance on either of their parts. They didn’t seem to notice that the other was there, which was highly illogical given that Renji knew, without a doubt, that Yukimura could pinpoint Sanada’s location almost immediately, even if Sanada was in another building or, on one occasion, in another district visiting his aunt for the weekend

“Yanagi-kun, your match is up,” Obara called.

Renji cleared his mind of everything but Kamidori-senpai’s data. This would be an easy win.

&-&

Pop. “Yo Sanada, that was pretty cool.” Pop. Marui stood along the fence, watching Yanagi play a fairly boring game of tennis.

Sanada didn’t say anything, but his eyebrow went up, which Marui took as a sign to continue talking.

“So, did you mean to turn your wrist and limit the power of that last shot, or was that an accident?” Marui didn’t think it was an accident. As far as he could tell, nothing Sanada did was an accident.

Sanada’s eyebrow rose again, then he let out a long breath. “It was not an accident.”

Marui smiled. “Cool. Just make sure you really hammer it into Obara-buchou, huh? He’s been asking for it and you should get a good bite into him before Yukimura destroys him.”

“Oh?” Sanada came to stand beside Marui, his eyes following the ball’s path across the net and back.

“Yukimura’s been waiting to let buchou have it ever since the second day of practice. Buchou told Yukimura to cut his hair – that’s why Yukimura wears that headband – and Yukimura’s really vain about his looks, you know.” Marui stopped and took in Sanada’s stony expression. “Guess you didn’t know. He is, though. Most people probably don’t notice because Yukimura’s so busy being nice all the time, but a tensai like me notices everything, like that leaf in your hair. You might wanna take care of that.”

Sanada removed the leaf. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Marui flashed Sanada a “V” and hopped away, gum popping over the smack of tennis ball to racquet.

&-&

Renji won his match, 6-3, much as he anticipated. Yukimura won both his matches at 6-3 as well and might as well have been napping on the court. Of course, Renji was aware that Yukimura was saving himself to throw off Obara, who still seemed unconcerned with the two freshmen who were one match away from making Rikkaidai history.

Sanada’s second match was having problems. Sanada’s domination in the first match had Miyabashi on guard. The future captain played a safe, strategic game, utilizing lobs and drop-shots.

“He’s playing into Sanada’s hands pretty nicely,” Marui said, startling Renji enough that he squeaked.

“Why would you said that?” Renji didn’t put much stock in Marui Bunta’s claim to tensaihood, particularly since Marui was getting B’s. Tensai didn’t get B’s.

“Watch the next lob,” Marui said, patting Renji on the shoulder and walking away to stand with an isolated and smiling Yukimura.

The next lob, Renji focused on Sanada. Had he not been watching carefully, he would have missed the dart of the eyes and the curling of muscles. All he would have seen was a blurry arm and a scuff mark on the other side of the court.

Renji could hear Marui and Yukimura’s smug laughter from the other end of the crowd. Sanada took the match, 6-3.


	6. Chapter 6

“Be respectful, but unforgiving,” Yukimura told Renji as he prepared for his match against Obara. They decided it was best that Renji go first, then Sanada. Yukimura would take the final match, which was fine, considering Yukimura planned to destroy Obara Koji - completely.

“I am aware of the plan,” Renji said in as close to exasperation as Yukimura had ever heard him.

“Is there a problem, Renji?” Yukimura slung an arm over Renji’s shoulder and bent down, to all appearances cheerful and supportive. “This is not the time to be having insecurities. You promised me a win, now deliver.” A pat to Renji’s shoulder and Yukimura was off to stand with Marui. Marui needed grooming, but he would be excellent for Yukimura’s team – Singles 3, or perhaps doubles if Renji decided he wanted a singles position. There was the matter of securing a partner for Marui, but Yukimura would worry about that next year. Now the important thing was to earn Marui’s trust and respect, the last more so than the first.

“He gonna be okay?” Marui crooked a thumb toward Renji. Marui was perceptive when it came to people, which was rare. “He looks kinda nervous.” Marui squinted. “Or like he’s really afraid of something.”

  
&-&

  
There was a 68 percent chance that Renji would lose. He chose not to share this statistic with anyone, particularly Yukimura, because, despite the odds, Renji was going to win. There was no choice, really. He won or he upset Yukimura. Renji was not willing to upset Yukimura.

As Obara stretched on the other side of the court, Renji tried to analyze his physical condition. Obara’s lunges were lower than usual, which meant his flexibility was in good form. Net play, then, was not an option.

A hand fell on Renji’s shoulder. “His wrist loses strength after he smashes. He will always smash a lob. Take advantage and use a heavy shot when you can.” Sanada patted Yanagi’s shoulder and returned to the circle of onlookers.

Renji frowned. He was not so weak that he needed to take advice from Sanada. Granted, Sanada’s playing had improved in a very limited timeframe, but Sanada was still a kendo player turned tennis player and Renji’d been holding a racquet since he could count.

“Game time,” Miyabashi called.

  
&-&

  
“Sanada, what do you think of the game so far?” Yukimura and Sanada were alone on Renji’s half of the court. Marui, per instruction, was standing with the regulars, being a good lapdog and gathering information.

Sanada looked down at Yukimura but didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, he studied the other boy intently. Finally, he said, “There is a good chance he will lose.”

“Oh?” Yukimura stepped closer, shoulder to shoulder with Sanada.

“He is not playing seriously and his concentration is broken.” Sanada pointed to the court. “His footwork is off. His steps are irregular and losing him ground. Obara’s play style allows him to hit various points on the court and Renji’s pace is too slow.”

Yukimura crossed his arms in front of his chest to avoid looping his arm around Sanada’s. “I see. How observant of you.”

Sanada shrugged. “I am accustomed to watching the movement of others.”

“That must be a handy skill. We’ll have to discuss it once we’re regulars, teach our team the finer points.” Yukimura lifted a smile to Sanada before turning back to the game in progress. Sanada’s perception would lend itself well to doubles. Sanada’s attitude, however, would be counterproductive in a doubles setting. Sanada would remain Singles 2.

“It is a skill learned in kendo. After a year in our dojo’s care, you will have mastered it if you are able.”

Yukimura turned back to Sanada, not liking Sanada’s superior tone in the least. “I can assure you that it is a skill I can and will master, Sanada, with or without your assistance.”

“You are different here.” Sanada turned to watch Yanagi score a point. Four games all. “I prefer you this way.”

“Is that so?” Yukimura liked Sanada better when he was playing tennis, too. The stern mask melted into a fiery determination in whose heat Yukimura could bask for hours. “Perhaps after I play your thoughts will change.” Yukimura gave in and slid his hand down Sanada’s arm. “People are very different when they step onto the court, Sanada.”

Sanada looked at Yukimura’s hand but didn’t stir to remove it. “I prefer you this way.” He turned back to the match, allowing Yukimura’s hand to stay.

  
&-&

  
Yanagi lost, 7-5. When he exited the courts, Yukimura was waiting. “You won the required three games. You’re a regular now. You did well.” Yukimura’s tone was vacant and his eyes grazed over the top of Renji’s head. “I admit to expecting a little more from you, but I’m sure you’ll train, ne?” Yukimura’s hand fell like lead on Renji’s shoulder. His nails dug into the aching muscles.

“It will not happen again,” Renji said. He’d say anything to get Yukimura away. All he really wanted right now was a water bottle and a quiet, dark place to nap. He’d never played so hard in his life and lost so horribly. It was an embarrassment.

“See that it doesn’t.” Yukimura lifted his hand. “Twenty minutes, then you’re up, Sanada.”

A shadow fell over Renji and a water bottle was pushed into his hands. “Thanks, Genichirou.”

Sanada walked with Renji to a tree a few paces off the main walkway. “Come to the dojo on Saturday. We will correct your mistakes.” Sanada handed Renji a towel and left, arms swinging to loosen them up for the match. Sanada would win. Renji had no doubts about that.

  
&-&

  
Yukimura's eyes never left Sanada. Every arch of the racquet, every curl of muscle, Yukimura wanted to take it all in. Memorize it. Store it for later use. He didn't care how Obara was playing. Obara played tennis like a trained baboon, dashing forward and back with no skill. Yukimura would destroy him.

"Game, Sanada, four games all!" The crowd gasped at the call, still not believing that Sanada could hold his own, even so late in the game.

"His backhand sucks," Marui said, popping his bubblegum. "That weird stance he's using is pretty powerful, but I don't think anyone else has the flexibility or the muscle to use it." Another pop.

"Is that so?" Yukimura drew his eyes away from Sanada with reluctance. "An interesting observation, Marui-kun."

Marui shrugged. "Call it like I see it. He's gonna win anyway. Obara's tiring out and Sanada hasn't used that move yet." Pop. "Hey Yukimura?"

"Yes?" Marui's gum was getting on Yukimura's nerves and, while Marui was often insightful, his ramblings were hampering Yukimura's ability to focus on the match.

"Just a quick word of advice." Marui spit his gum into a nearby bush and slid his hands into his uniform pockets.

"And what is that?"

Marui grinned and tapped the corner of his mouth. "Two things actually. First, don't drool when you watch him. Second, if you want everyone to follow you, you gotta act like you're someone worth following." Marui turned and skipped toward the other side of the courts, leaving Yukimura alone while he waited for Renji to return from a mandated beverage run. Sanada would be thirsty at the end of the match.

  
&-&

  
When the game was finally called in his favor, Sanada fell to the courts, his legs no longer willing to support him. He lay there, panting and staring up at the hazy sky until a shadow fell over him.

"Help him up, Renji." Yukimura stood over Sanada, arms crossed over his chest, warm-up jacket hanging loosely over his shoulders. "You won, Genichirou, but barely. I expect better next time." Yukimura crooked his finger and Renji helped Sanada up off the ground.

"Don't mind him, Genichirou. He's just nervous about the match. You played well." Renji's arms were still shaking from his own match.

"No," Sanada said, turning to see Yukimura begin his stretches. "He's right. It was horrible." Sanada gripped his racquet and shook off Renji's support.

Renji knocked Sanada across the back of the head with a bottled water. "You won, be grateful. We have half an hour until Yukimura's match. Obara needs time to recover. Go take a shower."

  
&-&

  
Renji speculated but had never come to a conclusion about Yukimura Seiichi's tennis. After Yukimura's first rally with Obara, Renji knew, without a doubt, that he never wanted to be on Yukimura's bad side. Yukimura, when serious, drove the ball hard and deep in cross-court shots that had you scrambling for every rally, every point. And, in the end, after you'd been lulled by the pattern, Yukimura hit a drop shot and, in your haste to retrieve it, you skinned open your arms or your chest or, in Obara's case, your face.

Yukimura smirked a little as he stood at the net, waiting for Obara to get up. "Fifteen-love," he said. His eyes were distant and hollow. His voice rang across the courts like a death bell.

"Impressive," Sanada said, sipping at a juice box. "A wider stance would've dropped the ball closer to the net, though."

Renji doubted Sanada even registered the blood sliding down Obara's face. "You have to leave something for the rest of the match, Genichirou. You can't play at full power from the start."

Sanada pulled the juice box from his lips and looked down at Renji. "Yukimura can."

  
&-&

  
Yukimura looked down at the blood spiders on the court. "We should clean the court before we continue, Obara-senpai. You could slip." Yukimura knew his voice was deeper than usual. His mother said he sounded scary when he was upset. He was hoping she was right. "You should clean your face up, too. If you sweat any more, it'll start to sting."

He could feel Sanada's eyes on him, like a blanket of nettles, stinging and questioning and digging. Sanada was probably memorizing every step to analyze later. If Yukimura didn't show what he'd gained from kendo practices, Sanada would work him harder during the weekend's practice, just as Yukimura planned to work Sanada harder at tennis practice because of his sloppy backhand. Yukimura almost wanted to miss a step, just to ensure their time together would be of maximum intensity.

"I'm fine," Obara gurgled, spitting out dirt. "The court's fine too. Your serve."

  
&-&

  
After Yukimura won the third game, none of the onlookers said anything. Obara's panting echoed in the air. "No more," he said, hand twitching around his racquet. The wounds from earlier were bleeding afresh after another dive to the cement. His arms were mangled and scratched. He'd fought valiantly, but couldn't take a point from the demon across the court.

"You must be tired from your earlier matches, senpai. We can continue tomorrow if you like."

The sun was already gone. Crickets chirped and cicadas sang as moths committed lamplight suicide.

"No more," Obara whispered, still on the ground.

Yukimura's shoulders relaxed, his grip on his racquet slackened. "If you say so, senpai. Let's get you to the clubhouse and clean you up." He pointed to a mass of Obara's supporters. "You three! Help him to the clubhouse. The rest of you, clean this court. It's disgusting. Sanada! Yanagi! Come with me!"

The court erupted in movement. Nets were struck and brooms and mops were brought out to clean the court of blood and dirt. Obara limped away, supported by two regulars. The third carried his bag.

"This is our court now," Yukimura said, taking in the practice grounds with a grand gesture. "I'm thinking we should play singles at he upcoming tournament, don't you think?"

"Agreed. I won't disgrace you," Renji said.

Yukimura patted Renji's cheek. "Good. What about you, Sanada?"

Sanada looked down and arched an eyebrow. "I thought the question was rhetorical."

"I'm always interested in what my fukubuchou has to say." Yukimura curled his arm around Sanada's.

"You aren't buchou yet." Sanada moved Yukimura's arm and stepped a few feet away.

Yukimura laughed. "You're so cute when you're being dense, Sanada. Perhaps Renji will explain it to you. I should go check on senpai to make sure his wounds aren't too severe. I also want to arrange our lockers. I like the ones near the door, don't you?" Yukimura walked off, still laughing.

"You let him call you cute," Renji said, offering Sanada another juice box. Neither boy had the urge to follow Yukimura into the regular's clubhouse yet. "I take it you are fond of him."

"Only when he plays tennis," Sanada said. "Otherwise he's annoying and a hindrance to my objectives."

Renji shook his head. "He's in charge now. You'd better get used to listening to him, Genichirou, or you'll be cut from the team."

The strongest man was always the leader at Rikkaidai, no matter his age. It was the reason Sanada had selected the school in the first place. "I am aware," he said.

"You do not have to continue with the tennis club if you do not wish to, Genichirou. The kendo club will gladly take you back, though it is unlikely that Yukimura would let the transition occur smoothly."

Sanada looked toward the clubhouse and frowned. "Let's go. I want a top locker. Yukimura will find me one at the bottom."

"To improve the flexibility of your waist, yes." Renji grinned and began to walk with Sanada toward the regular's clubhouse. "Why are you blushing, Sanada?"

Sanada cleared his throat and straightened his posture. "The flexibility of my waist is fine, Renji."

"I was teasing you, Genichirou."

"I was aware."


	7. Epilogue

After a year of subtle hinting, not so subtle hinting, and outright asking, Yukimura was finally at the door to Sanada's home, ready to spend a meal and, if Yukimura's plans went well, the night with Sanada's family.

The door opened. "Genichirou's friend, right?"

Yukimura stared. The man in the doorway looked like Genichirou, only taller and with glasses. If this was what Yukimura had to look forward to, then all gods be praised. "Yes Sanada-san. My name is Yukimura Seiichi, thank you for having me in your…"

"Aniki, who is it?" Genichirou shoved through. He was taller than at the beginning of the year by a few inches, but he still had growing to do. "I apologize for whatever my brother's done," Genichirou said. "Mamoru is an idiot with no manners."

"I wasn't the one who shoved his older and wiser brother through the door!" Mamoru said, moving into Genichirou's face. He had to bend down a bit, but he managed.

"If you didn’t…"

"Boys, is that the way we treat a guest?" Sanada Noriko smacked her sons upside the head with a feather duster. "My apologies for raising such unseemly boys. Come in Yukimura-kun. It's warm outside."

Yukimura smiled down at Sanada-san – she stood chest-high, except her ponytail, which was to the top of Yukimura's head – and entered, slipping off his shoes. "I hope my visit isn't any trouble."

"Of course not! Why don't you and Genichirou entertain yourselves while I finish up dinner." She patted Yukimura on the head and walked back toward what Yukimura assumed was the kitchen. "Come set the table, Mamoru!"

Mamoru's shoulders sunk and he trudged away. Genichirou would never slouch like that. "Your home is lovely," Yukimura said, clasping his hands in front of him. "What shall we do first?"

&-&

Genichirou planned for a nice, civilized game of checkers in the family room while he and Yukimura waited for his father to come home and his grandfather to finish up in the dojo. A civilized game of checkers turned into a battle between Yukimura and Sanada's mother, which left Genichirou and Mamoru to make dessert and bring drinks when commanded.

"You are skilled," Sanada-san said, finger poised above a chit. "But you are young and lack experience. This will be the end of you!" In a flurry of motion, she cleared the board of all Yukimura's black pieces.

"I lost." Yukimura stared at the board.

"It's just a game, Yukimura-kun." Sanada-san patted Yukimura's head and stood. "I should make sure these two didn't destroy my banana pudding cake recipe. Genichirou, play with your friend. He needs some self esteem."

Genichirou sat and began to arrange the board.

Yukimura stilled his hand. "I don't want to play again. You haven't shown me your room yet. I'd like to see it."

Sanada nodded. "Let me put this away."

"I'll do it Gen-chan." Mamoru slid next to Genichirou and put an arm around his shoulder. "I think he likes you," he whispered, too soft for Yukimura to hear. "Be careful."

Sanada rolled his eyes and stood up. "This way." At the bottom of the stairs he warned, "My room's boring."

"That's okay," Yukimura said, a spring in his step. "I'm going to tell Renji all about it in exchange for some information."

Sanada didn't ask what kind of information Renji had that Yukimura might want. Sanada tried not to converse with Yukimura about Renji at all. The two never particularly got along and, now that Yukimura was fukubuchou, the two were even more distant to one another. That they spoke at all was a miracle.

&-&

Sanada's room _was_ boring. Absolutely, without a doubt boring. The walls were bare and the only furniture in the room was a bookcase, a desk, and a chest for Sanada's futon. "It's lovely, Sanada. It's just as I pictured it." Yukimura had hoped Sanada's room would shed some light on his character. Did he have kendo posters? Tennis posters? Did he have photos of girls? Yukimura was fairly certain Sanada wasn't the sort to have pictures of girls, but he still wasn't positive, not after an entire year of trying to weasel the information out of Renji or trick it out of Sanada and failing.

"You're lying," Sanada said, smiling a little. "It's boring." He sat down in his desk chair and gestured to the floor. "Have a seat. Or we could go back and play checkers."

Yukimura slid the door closed. "You didn't submit a permission form for this summer's training camp." He walked to stand in front of Sanada's splayed legs.

Sanada twisted from side to side in the chair and looked out his window. "I can't go. I have to help in the dojo this summer. I'm a junior instructor." Sanada's head fell back, dropping backward to rest his neck on the back of the chair. "I have to teach children."

The thought of Sanada instructing a small band of children was amusing. "I think you'll do well. Come to the camp if you have days off. Your slicing needs more accuracy. You gave up two games at nationals. It was embarrassing. Miyabashi almost got to play a match that mattered." Yukimura inched a little closer, standing between Sanada's legs. Sanada didn't notice, he was still tilted over his chair, looking at the wall behind him.

"It was fine," Sanada said. "Everyone knows who runs the team."

Yukimura smiled. That was the first time Sanada recognized Yukimura's position in the club with anything other than a reverent nod and a, "yes, Yukimura."

Sanada let out a loud sigh and his chest hovered a moment before sinking down. His throat undulated as he swallowed. Sanada had a very nice neck, muscular with evenly colored skin. Yukimura often thought about running his tongue down the tendons after a hard practice, picking up rivulets of sweat.

"You're staring at me," Sanada said, lifting his head to frown at Yukimura. "Stop it."

"You're the only thing to look at in here," Yukimura said, taking the final step that brought his knees against Sanada's thighs. "You're very talkative today, Sanada."

"It's my house." Sanada shrugged and ignored Yukimura's proximity. Yukimura invading Sanada's personal space was nothing new.

"I'm just unaccustomed to it." Yukimura's knee tapped at Sanada's leg. "We should go play a few games after dinner. I brought my tennis bag." Yukimura's tennis bag also had his change of clothes. If Sanada wasn't an idiot, he would ask Yukimura to stay the night. Unless he liked girls, in which case Yukimura would pretend to have just stayed at Marui's house the night before.

Sanada shrugged. "Fine." He titled his head back again, staring at the eggshell wall.

"You can work on that fuurin thing you showed me." Yukimura tapped Sanada's leg again. It was rude to space out when your guest was talking to you.

"Fuurinkazan," Sanada corrected, still looking at the wall.

Yukimura tapped Sanada's other leg. "Do you think your father is home yet? Should we go play checkers?"

Sanada snorted and the next thing Yukimura knew he was falling forward into Sanada's lap. Sturdy hands looped around his waist and chapped lips glided across his. "Do you really want to play checkers?" Sanada asked, pulling back.

Yukimura held onto Sanada's shirt and tried to focus through the tipsy feeling in his gut. The best he could get out was a whine that might have been no or the tail end of Genichirou. He really couldn't tell.

Sanada steadied Seiichi on his lap, turning the other boy around and nuzzling his neck. "You were taking too long," Sanada said. "You're unattractive when you're indecisive."

"So I'm attractive every other time?" Yukimura grinned up at the ceiling. "Good." He settled deeper into Sanada's chest. "I'm spending the night."

"I assumed you would." Sanada tilted back to stare at the wall again. "The clothes are in your bag. It's bulkier than usual."

Yukimura gave in and slipped his tongue across Sanada's neck. Contrary to his fantasies, Sanada's sweat tasted nothing like nectar and everything like sweat. Disgusting. "We'll get up early and play a few games before I have to go home, since I won't see you for the rest of the week."

"Yes, Yukimura." Sanada gave Yukimura a squeeze. "Mother will want you back for more checkers."

"Never."

"She'll be upset and won't let you come over again."

"You can stay at my house." Yukimura's mother loved Sanada almost as much as her son did. "Or we could kick Renji out of his room."

"There are cameras."

"Really?"

"No."

Yukimura smacked Sanada across the head and stood. "Idiot. Let's go play checkers before your brother starts insinuating things." He held his hand out to Genichirou and waited.

"Yes, Yukimura." Sanada brushed his fingers across Yukimura's hand and smiled.

They walked out the room, hands to themselves, eyes focused forward, and not the least bit suspicious looking save for Yukimura's faint blush and Sanada's satisfied grin.


End file.
